


Listen to the Band

by wannaliveindeansdimples



Series: Band!Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Destiel - Freeform, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Musician!Cas, Musician!Dean, Supernatural AU - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 11:52:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wannaliveindeansdimples/pseuds/wannaliveindeansdimples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean didn’t know, he honestly didn’t. Not until the photographer took that stupid picture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Listen to the Band

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mahbbys](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=mahbbys).



> For mahbbys.tumblr.com  
> Inspired by http://iscream4misha.tumblr.com/post/70550744801/x

Dean didn’t know, he honestly didn’t. Not until the photographer took that stupid picture.

He’d known Cas for a long time. Years now. Initially, they had butted heads, but it wasn’t long before they became the best of friends. Cas had fit right into Dean’s life, turning Sam and Dean into Sam and Dean and Cas without even trying that hard. He was almost like another brother, but not quite. He was something less and more than a brother. He was a best friend and that was as deep as Dean ever went to try and define it.

They’d started the band about two years ago, just as a way to relax and do something they both loved. Chuck and Gabriel had gotten involved not long after. Cas was mainly vocals, though he could play keyboard and a few other things. Dean was vocals and guitar. Chuck played bass and Gabe was on rhythm guitar. 

They couldn’t seem to keep a drummer, though. Sometimes it was Benny. Sometimes Ash or Garth would fill in, but there wasn’t anyone permanent. Poor Sam had tried, but he was too uncoordinated for musical instruments. It worked ok, most of the time, anyway.

Somehow, after just a year or so of playing small dives that paid them peanuts, they’d landed a pretty huge gig at the convention center. None of their regular drummers could make the date, though. They had to hire a session drummer on the referral of someone they _sort of_ knew and Dean wasn’t convinced the guy could do the job. They didn’t really have much of a choice, though.

When they had booked the gig, Dean had decided to hire a photographer. He didn’t really think their little band of misfits had a shot at the big time, but having some nice photos of the band playing a bigger venue might at least get them better pay and better gigs. So he shelled out the money for someone good.

He remembered how nervous Cas had been before they started. The photographer was taking behind the scenes shots and Dean figured that probably wasn’t helping. After the money he’d spent, he didn’t want to turn her away, though. She seemed to know what she was doing, even if most of her work had been weddings. He’d seen the photos and not one was less than perfect.

“Dean, do you think that drummer will be good enough? He seems a little suspicious. They were setting up and he didn’t know what to call the high hat. Doesn’t that seem a little strange to you?” 

He was squinting at Dean as he talked, as if he couldn’t quite make him out. In the early days of their friendship, Dean had been convinced the guy needed glasses. He had even forced him to see an eye doctor, but Cas had gotten a perfect bill of health. One night after a few beers, Chuck had laughingly pointed out that the squinting seemed to be Dean-specific, but Dean had brushed that off.

“Cas, man, it’s gonna be fine, I promise. Just relax, ok?” Dean walked behind him on his way to grab his jacket. He squeezed the shorter man’s shoulders reassuringly. “This is gonna be an awesome night, dude. Have some fun!”

Cas’ tension leaked out under Dean’s hands and the men broke apart, Cas smiling for the first time that night. Dean clapped him on the back on his way out to find the event coordinator. He didn’t see the look Cas gave him as he walked away, but evidently, the photographer had captured the moment, anyway.

Dean’s hands trembled as he saw the photo. He had just started clicking through the proofs the photog had emailed him this morning. It was barely a dozen photos in, but Dean wasn’t sure he could move on to the 100 or more others there were. Cas was looking at him like…

“Shit,” Dean said aloud and not for the first time. That look was _adoring_. There was no other word for it. That wasn’t just a grateful best friend. That was...there was _longing_ in that look. Dean felt something burn and pull between his ribs. He felt light-headed and strange. He didn’t know how to deal with Cas’ feelings. 

Hell, he wasn't even sure how he felt about the guy. Yeah, ok, so sometimes when they hugged or touched, he wanted to linger, wanted to lean into it. And whenever he had news - good or bad - it was always Cas he wanted to tell first. But wasn't that what best friends did? Maybe that's all it was. Dean really didn't know. His only other best friend was his brother and odd feelings didn't apply. 

He finally couldn't take it anymore and clicked the next picture. There were only a few more from back stage, but one of them was of Cas laughing. It made Dean smile, but he didn't linger on it. Not for long, anyway. 

He forgot all about the weirdness once he got to the pictures of the band playing. They were really great shots. They looked like a real band, like professionals. 

Then came the pictures of the songs where the drummer started fucking up. 

At first it wasn't too obvious, but after the third song where the beat was all off, Dean had finally spied the bottle of booze the guy had evidently polished off in between songs. 

He'd told the audience they were taking a short break. Once the curtain fell, he walked over and suggested the guy get the hell off the stage and not come back. The other guys, except Cas, started to freak out. 

When Cas started to speak, Dean cringed. Instead of the I-told-you-so scolding Dean was expecting from Cas, though, he just said, "I'll just play auto beats on the keyboard. Then I can fill in with cowbell and sticks and whatever." 

The photographer hadn't taken any shots of the drama, nor any of the drummer after it was obvious he was drunk. But she had captured some really great images. She'd gotten one of them huddling behind the curtain that he loved. 

He didn't remember much about the first few minutes after they'd gone back out. He'd tried to talk to the audience, but nerves had taken over. Cas had smoothly stepped in and filled the awkward silence. 

Dean vaguely remembered Cas picking up the cowbell and talking to the audience about changing up the format, but mostly things were a blur until the first song. So the picture of Cas holding the cowbell was somewhat of a shock. 

It was taken from the side of the stage away from Dean. Cas was standing there holding the bell and looking out toward the audience, away from Dean. He was slightly away from the camera, a cocky half smirk on his face. 

Dean, on the other hand, was looking straight at Cas and his face was fully turned toward the camera. Dean felt that same burning pull in his chest. It was the same look. The expression on his face as he gazed at Cas was the same as the one Cas had had watching him walk away. 

_Adoration_. 

Dean sat there for a long time staring at the picture. Then he came to a decision. He downloaded that photo and then scrolled back to find the first one. Before he could change his mind, he uploaded both pictures into an email and typed in Cas' email address. He put "Important" as the subject and in the body he simply wrote, "I think we need to talk." Dean clicked send before he could chicken out. 

Then he composed another email to the photographer. It simply read, "Thank you. They're perfect."

Almost immediately his phone rang, Cas' number on the caller ID. Dean smiled and said, "Heya, Cas. Did you get my email?"


End file.
